Having slept well during the night—thanks to Monty’s forethought in bringing a sedative—Patricia woke while the sun was just gilding the top of the butte. The canyon and the grove were still in shadow, and a mocking bird was singing in the top of the pinyon beside the cabin. Patricia dressed hurriedly, and tidied the blankets in the bunk. She pulled open the door, gazing upon her possessions with none of that pleasurable thrill she had always pictured as accompanying her first fair sight of Johnnywater.
She did not believe that harm had befallen Gary. Things couldn’t happen to Gary Marshall. Not for one moment, she told herself resolutely, had she believed it. Yet the mystery of his absence nagged at her like a gadfly.
couldn’tFifty feet or so away, partially hidden by a young juniper, P
